The Untold Woes of Soldiers
by Erimentha48
Summary: Lieutenant Ross lights a spark that the Flame Alchemist can't put out. And possibly other stories.
1. Ch 1 Sleepless Nights & Soothing Tempers

**Ch. 1 Sleepless Nights and Soothing Tempers**

Roy Mustang ran his hands through his hair again. None of this was adding up. He had been looking over all the books and documents Sheska told him Hughes had requested in the few days before his death. He was missing something. He didn't know how long he had been looking at the piles and piles of information, but it was wearing him down.

He absently looked around the room. He had taken one of the study rooms in the library and made a make shift office and living space. There was the desk he was currently hunched over, a couch and two stuffed chairs placed around a coffee table also covered in papers, and up against the far wall in between the door and the closet there was a bookshelf, a coat stand, and an old wooden chair. His wandering gaze settled on the bed to his right, completely untouched since it had been moved in. Hawkeye had insisted on it. He hadn't argued. It's not like he had had time to find an apartment to go back to or that he was planning on going anywhere anyway. But he wasn't inclined to use it quite yet. He couldn't bring himself to close his eyes, to see…

A gentle knocking on the door brought him out of his thoughts. He didn't want to be bothered. "What?! Who is it?!" he barked. The lack of sleep was making him more irritable than usual.

"Lt. Ross, sir. Is this a bad time?" she asked through the door. Lieutenant Maria Ross and Sergeant Denny Brosh had been sent to "help" him during the night while his team got some shuteye. He was convinced Hawkeye had them there to guard him while she was gone, but no such thing had been said.

He didn't mind Ross, maybe would have even added her to his team if Major Armstrong were not so protective of her. The Major had given him the two on-lone, letting him know that Ross was one of his best lieutenants. Brosh on the other hand was a mindless fool and Mustang couldn't stand him. But Armstrong had only praise for the bumbling sergeant. Mustang stood up and replied, "No, come in, Lieutenant." He could use a break anyway.

Ross opened the door and walked in carrying a tray. "You've been working all evening, sir. I thought you might like some tea," she said with a smile, closing the door behind her.

"Thank you." He made his way to the couch. "What time is it?" he croaked. His throat suddenly felt very dry. He couldn't remember the last time he ate or drank.

"About 9 pm, sir. And it's Tuesday."

"Tuesday?" He asked alarmed. The days were starting to blend together. He had started working through Hughes' files Friday night after the funeral. "But it was just Monday?"

Ross smiled. "That's generally how it works, sir."

He looked at the tray as she placed it on the coffee table, moving some of the papers to make room. There was a single cup, a teapot - steam rising from the spout - and a plate with some pastries. As he sat down he asked, "Would you like to join me?"

"Sir, I-" she choked out.

He stopped her before she could protest further, "I could use the company. I haven't talked to another living soul in hours." It felt more like days. It just might have been.

Ross bowed her head slightly in agreement. "I'll go get another cup, sir." She turned on her heel and exited, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Mustang took another sip of tea. "You where one of Ed and Al's bodyguards here in Central." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes."

He looked at her intently, "What did you think of them?"

Ross paused for a moment, staring into her cup contemplating. "They are truly amazing boys. What they've been through-" she trailed off.

Mustang didn't need her to finish. The boys had been through a lot in their lifetime. Their mother, Al's situation, he didn't wish their life on anyone. "So you enjoyed being their bodyguard?" he asked changing the subject.

"God no!" Ross quickly shut her mouth and stiffened. She stammered out, "I-I mean certainly, sir," trying to backpedal out of her statement. "I will be ready to stand by them whenever they return."

Mustang grinned behind his tea cup. The young alchemists were a handful. He knew all too well how stressful it was to watch over them. "So tomorrow's good for you then?" he ask calmly.

"What?!" Her eyes widened. "I-I- yes, sir," she sputtered.

He chuckled to himself and said with a smirk, "No need to worry, Ross. They aren't coming back here anytime soon." He paused, thinking about the Elric brothers. They had left before he had arrived in Central, before Hughes' death. He sighed, "I don't even know where they are," more to himself than to Ross.

She looked at him thoughtfully. "You care a lot about them."

He looked back at her, "And you don't?"

"I-I-" she faltered then grew quiet, staring into her cup.

"You can speak candidly here, Lieutenant. Right now we are just two people sharing a cup of tea."

She nodded, "Understood." Her stayed silent a few minutes more gathering her thoughts. "They give me hope," she finally said.

He regarded the comment for a moment then replied, "Me too."

"And on the record, sir," she added, "when they do return – if they return – I would gladly be their bodyguard. It may be hell and give me grey hairs but I would go to the ends of the earth for those two."

"Noted." She had a good heart, the heart of a soldier. That much he knew.

They grew quiet for a while, both enjoying the tea and the company. Ross eventually looked up from her cup and asked, "How goes your research, sir?"

The question hit him like a strong punch to the gut. "I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled gruffly.

"That badly?"

"I'm so close!" he shouted in frustration, "I just-!" He stopped himself short. He was losing his composure in front of a subordinate. He sat back in his seat recovering his control over his emotions. "I apologize for my temper, Lieutenant."

"It's fine, sir." She smiled. "I've seen worse. I did look after Ed for multiple weeks."

He smiled to himself, "He does have quite a temper."

"That he does," she agreed with a yawn.

Mustang looked up, "You look tired, Ross." She had lines under her eyes and there was a general weariness about her. He hadn't noticed it until now.

She nodded, "I am, sir. I haven't been sleeping much."

"Switching to a night shift can be a difficult adjustment." He knew it all too well from being in the field, especially in Ishval. But there were other reasons he couldn't sleep then too.

"Yes, but" She paused to yawn again. "It's still been hard to sleep, ever since-" she trailed off again.

She was going to say since Hughes death. He knew she was. He had forgotten that Ross had been working with Hughes closely before his death. "I understand." He placed his cup on the coffee table. "You should take the night off."

"No, sir!" she protested. "I couldn't."

"I'm sure Sergeant Brosh can handle a night on his own." He actually wasn't. He couldn't trust the sergeant to do anything, but Ross looked exhausted.

She chuckled. "You can't leave him for two seconds before he falls asleep." Then she added, "It wouldn't be fair to him. It's not his fault I can't sleep. And besides, the night off wouldn't help my lack of sleep only make it more frustrating."

The conversation trailed off after that. Soon, Ross left and the colonel returned to his futile attempts to decipher the jumbled mess that lay before him.

* * *

Mustang cursed to himself and flipped through some more pages of a file he was looking over. It seemed significant but he had no idea why. He had no idea why any of these files where here. He was spinning his wheels and he knew it.

Ross had left a few hours ago. The break from research had been nice. He had been able to relax for a second. But the tension in his shoulders and the weariness from staring at small print for so long had returned almost the moment he had gotten back to work. He felt as if he were in a thick all-encompassing fog that wouldn't let him see more than two feet in front of him. He could see that all of this, all of the things Hughes had looked at, was leading to something, but he had no clue what that might be.

His legs starting itching to move and he couldn't keep his foot still. He got up and started pacing near his desk. He was no closer to finding out the truth than when he had been on the phone with Hughes the night he had died. It all frustrated him to no end. If he had just answered the phone quicker. Images of the crime scene flash in his mind. He felt weak and useless. He couldn't stand it anymore! All his efforts had gotten him nowhere! He picked up the book nearest to him and hurled it at the far wall, giving out a roar of frustration.

Within seconds the door flung open and Lieutenant Ross came running in. "Colonel! Is everything alright, sir?!" worry written across her face.

"I've had enough of this!" he bellowed. "I don't know what he was trying to do! I don't know what any of this means! Every time I'm about to figure it out it all slips through my fingers!"

She closed the door and approached him slowly, hands out as if trying to calm a raging beast. "Sir, maybe you should take a break," she said steadily. "You've been at this for four days without rest."

"I can rest when I've figured this out! I need to know what he was doing! I need to know why he was killed! He was trying to tell me something, Ross! I had him on the phone!"

"You're trying to figure out what took General Hughes weeks in only a few days. You need to give your mind some time to sort it out, sir. Maybe it will make sense in the morning." Ross said sounding calm.

He breathed heavily, disdain dripping in his voice, "How can I sleep not knowing the truth? His last dying moments where to tell me something I can't figure out! None of this makes any sense!" A thought crossed his mind as a crazed look entered his eyes and he laughed to himself. His voice became unnaturally calm. "There's no use to any of this. I'll never know the truth. I might as well just set this whole room on fire." He smirked and laughed again. "Yes! That's what I'll do!" In a blink of an eye he had taken his ignition glove out of his pocket and effortlessly pulled it over his hand.

Ross ran at him. "Colonel, no!" grabbing his hand tightly. "Don't do this."

He looked at her curiously. "I could easily throw you off."

"I know, but I'm hoping you'll listen to reason." There was a sense of command in her voice. "You need to rest, sir. Your mind is overworked. The only way you can make any progress is by waiting for everything to settle. Wandering around in a blind haze will get you nowhere." She grew more confidant as she spoke. "I know General Hughes meant a lot to you and I know you want to understand why he died. But if he could see you now he would be ashamed. You've become a tragic mess of a man in his name. Even in his last weeks when he was working all the time on this secret project, he took the time to go home or call you. He knew that the mind needs rest and comfort to stay sane. He wouldn't want you to sacrifice everything to avenge his death."

She was staring him in the eyes. The anger and frustration he had felt had faded into shame and exhaustion. He felt broken and worn out. He dropped his gaze because he could not stand to see her criticizing stare any longer. He wished Ross hadn't seen him like this. His voice felt weak and foreign as he tried to explain himself, "How can I rest when I see his face every time I close my eyes? How can I seek comfort knowing he will never see his wife and child again? I have all these thoughts racing through my mind and I can't quiet them."

"Then let's give them a reason to shut up." The lieutenant pulled his chin up with her fingertips. Before he could even comprehend the situation her lips were on his, gentle but commanding. She pulled him closer by his collar. His hands, of their own volition, wrapped around her waist as her kiss melted everything from his mind.

A thought broke through the fog of desire. What was he doing? This was his subordinate. He pushed her away and searched her eyes for some kind of explanation, utterly dumbfounded. "Lieutenant?"

"I'm not a lieutenant right now," she said as she took off her uniform jacket and dropped it on the ground. "I'm just a woman. Are you just a man?"

There she was daring him again with those deep blue eyes, but this time she didn't want him to back down. A million thoughts raced through his head at once, but one in particular stood out. He wanted her mouth on his again. He wanted the clarity and stillness of mind he had felt moments before as their lips where intertwined. No thoughts. Just her. He mumbled an agreement as he unbuttoned his jacket and let it fall to the floor. He pulled Ross towards him, hungrily taking her mouth in his.

Her fingers left trails of fire as they moved down his chest and un-tucked his shirt. He broke away to hastily pull her T-shirt over her head. It felt like his entire body was suddenly thrust into an inferno as her hand touched his bare skin under his now unbuttoned shirt.

And as quickly as the inferno came it turned into bone chilling ice as a knock at the door broke them apart. A voice emitted from the other side of the door, "Colonel, it's Havoc. You in there?"

He wanted to shout 'Of course I'm in here, you idiot! Now go away!' but instead he hollered, "One second, Lieutenant!" and whispered to Ross to get behind the door as he handed her their scattered clothes. He started buttoning up his shirt as he opened the door to reveal the interfering Lieutenant Havoc.

"Sir, the-" Havoc began, but then was distracted as the colonel continued to button his shirt. "What happened to your shirt?"

Thinking fast as he tucked it in, Mustang replied, "It's hot in here, what with all the…research." He couldn't come up with a better reason. "You were saying?"

"Uh… the, uh," he stuttered, still a bit shaken by his disheveled superior. "The Fuhrer has requested to see you, sir."

"At this time of night? Alright. Let me just get my jacket." Mustang reached around the door to where Ross was hiding and motioned for her to give him his jacket.

She handed it to him and he put his arm through the sleeve, finding it to be a bit shorter than he expected. He looked down to see a second lieutenant's shoulder bar where a colonel's should have been. He quickly took the jacket off, hoping Havoc hadn't seen the ranks and thrust the jacket behind the door, saying with feigned confidence, "Oops, grabbed the wrong one. My other jacket fits better than this one," as he gestured angrily at Ross for his actual jacket. He looked behind the door to give her a nasty glare and she smiled back apologetically while handing him the other jacket.

"You have two jackets in there, sir?" Havoc said confused.

"Of course I have two jackets, Havoc!" Mustang bellowed as he put his jacket on and shoved Havoc out of the doorway. Mustang started walking down the hallway and Havoc fell in line behind him as the colonel continued to holler, "What a stupid question! What if I spill coffee on this one? What would I do then, go around out of uniform?! Are you missing your brain, Lieutenant?! I'm no slipshod private! I'm trying to become Fuhrer! I can't become Fuhrer with a coffee stain on my jacket, now can I? Would you want a Fuhrer who walks around with coffee on his jacket, Lieutenant?!

"N-no, sir." He stammered in reply.

"I didn't think so!" Mustang thundered once more.

* * *

Ross smiled to herself, only the colonel could pull that off. She sighed and rested her head on the bookcase next to her. She waited for the colonel's tirade to fade out completely before she moved away from the coatrack. She started to put her shirt back on as she thought about the events that had just transpired. Her heart was still racing and she had butterflies. Mustang had lived up to his reputation as the most eligible bachelor of Central that was for sure. But it was probably for the best that Havoc had interrupted them. If he hadn't, who knows what could have happened, and with a higher ranking officer. He was her superior!

Her mind reeled at the final realization. What had she been thinking? Mustang was her superior and she had just seduced him while he was emotionally unstable. It seemed like the only solution at the time. She had learned in some book somewhere that personal contact reduced the fight or flight reflexes of the body. That knowledge combined with her tiredness and her concern for the colonel's safety must have made her think seduction was the only course of action. It made absolutely zero sense now. She could lose her job over this. She felt nauseous and a little light head. She suddenly wanted to run very very far away and never look back.

Mustang sighed as he walked down the long corridors of the Central Library on his way back to his room. He had sent Havoc home after the meeting. For some reason his faithful Officer in Charge had still been around when the Fuhrer's secretary had gone looking for Mustang. The Fuhrer had received some information on the recent whereabouts of Scar and wanted to move Mustang to the lead on the search for the alchemic murderer. Bradley had, at his request, given him until the end of the week to rap up the Hughes case.

Mustang passed by Sergeant Brosh, asleep at his post as usual, but didn't see Lieutenant Ross. He sighed thinking, not for the first time in the past hour, of the lieutenant's interrupted advances. He chuckled to himself. It seemed appropriate that Havoc be the one to interrupt them. He had stolen so many of his poor second lieutenant's girlfriends that it was almost like unwitting payback. It was probably for the best anyway. This was no time for indulgence and frolicking, especially with a subordinate. And he didn't want to know what Major Armstrong would do if he found out he had taken advantage of his prized lieutenant. Mustang shivered at the thought.

As he entered and closed the door to his makeshift quarters he felt that something was off. He wasn't alone. He stopped for a moment then walked over to his desk, taking off his uniform jacket and placing it on the back of the chair.

* * *

"You're still here?" he asked calmly, his back to his guest.

"Yes." Ross replied. She had wanted to get away from this room earlier, to run from the mess she found herself in, but she had known she couldn't do that. She had to explain herself. She had to apologize for her transgression and try to save her job. She hoped he would understand her reasons.

Her legs felt vaporous as she stood up from her chair. She felt small, like a child apologizing for breaking a prize possession. Her hands were shaking. She clenched them to get rid of the feeling. She hadn't felt this nervous since her first year in the Academy. Her mouth felt dry as she spoke, "I didn't want you to-I wanted to explain," she paused to swallow, "about earlier, sir."

He said without turning around, "I understand, Lieutenant. No need to explain. I don't think any less of you. You were just trying to help my state of mind."

"That's not-" she began, but then agreed, "Yes, but-" She stopped not knowing how to proceed. She had thought long and hard about the reasons behind her actions while he was away. She needed to make him understand. "It's more than that, sir. I have come to have a respect for you, sir, and I look up to you as many of your subordinates do. But also I have an admiration for you which goes deeper than professionalism. I acted on that tonight. It was some combination of my worry for your state of mind and these sleepless nights. I apologize for my actions. I wasn't thinking straight." Her eyes were pinned to the slats of floorboard about five feet in front of her. Her heart was racing again, and her clenched fists were starting to feel sweaty.

"No need to apologize, Ross. It worked, didn't it? You calmed me down," he smiled, "in a way. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir."

Still facing his desk, he added, "And don't worry. I could have stopped you at any time. That's on me, not you."

"Yes, sir."

He was quiet for far longer than made Ross comfortable. Mustang picked up a picture frame from his desk and studied it. She thought it might be the one of him and Hughes in Ishval. It was a good photo of both of them. Mustang looked much younger then, less jaded, and carefree. Her thoughts were interrupted by Mustang breaking out in a deep cheerful laugh.

Ross looked at the back of the colonel's head in utter confusion, hoping he wasn't cracking again. His laugh didn't sound erratic. It sounded almost happy. "What's funny, sir?"

"I never understood what he meant until now," he said to himself more than to Ross.

"Understand what?" she asked.

He smiled to himself, "Hughes always told me I needed a wife."

"What?!" she exclaimed. That last word hit her like a bucket of ice. Her heart was practically in her throat and she couldn't breathe.

Mustang quickly turned to her, his hands up apologetically. "No, I-" he stuttered defensively, "I'm sorry, Ross. That's not what I meant. I-I just understand why he was so persistent on it is all, so I could have something- someone- to go home to as a diversion from this crazy place we work in, as a comfort."

"Oh," she sighed in relief. She let herself calm down before speaking again, "He did care a lot about you, sir."

"As do you," Mustang smiled.

"What?" She was thrown off by the comment and stuttered, "I-No, I-Did I say that? I didn't-"

He cut her short, "It's alright." He began to slowly walk towards her. "I hadn't thought about it fully before, probably because you are my subordinate, but you have many traits that I admire, Maria."

Her breath caught in her throat, shocked at the informality and audacity of his statement. She felt her cheeks flush. Her eyes shot back to the floorboards as she tried to protest, "Sir."

He continued to approach her. "Your sense of loyalty is admirable. You are very honest even to your superiors if need be. You are one of the most caring and passionate soldiers I've met, but you show restraint and don't let that passion keep you from acting professionally." He grinned, "Most of the time. And you are very beautiful." The last words were said a mere foot away.

She couldn't look at him. Her stare was fixed on the second-to-top button of his shirt. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her cheeks burned like she was standing inches from a blazing fire. "Colonel," she began but couldn't go on. Her throat felt as if it were being twisted like rung laundry.

"Maria, look at me," He whispered softly. He lifted her chin up tenderly. "This is not an order. This is not even a request. You have all the say here. I am just a man." He said each word deliberately. "Do you understand?"

Her knees felt like crumbling rock barely holding her up. It was hard to breathe. His hand on her chin felt like a hot flame licking her face. Words seemed to escape her. Her mind was running a hundred miles a minute but she couldn't say a thing. All she could do was nod. When did she become a love-struck fool unable to move or speak at a simple touch? For being the one doing the seducing only an hour earlier she sure wasn't very good at being on the receiving end.

He moved in closer, leaning his head down to softly kiss her lips. She melted into his arms and sighed, "Colonel."

He pulled away and smiled, "This isn't going to work if you keep calling me that."

She tried to clear her throat to speak, "Right. Sorry, sir. I-I mean-I-" Panic wiped her mind blank. She racked her brain for that one syllable, grasping at nothing. "God, I know your name. I swear-"

"-Roy," he smiled.

"Right."

He searched her eyes again with a questioning look, "Maria, are you sure you're okay with this?"

"What? Yes." She closed her eyes and breathed in deep to settle her nerves. Her nose filled with the smell of him, a musty spice, old paper on his fingertips, white tea on his breath, and something - vanilla maybe. She wasn't sure. But she was sure about how she felt and she opened her eyes to his hopeful stare. "Yes, Roy-" A smile crossed her lips and she chuckled. His name felt foreign on her tongue. "Roy, I am." She kissed him hard, pulling him closer, running her hand through his hair. "I'm very sure."

He smiled, picked her up and carried her to his bed. And with that he left behind his research and all thoughts of finding his friend's killer for the rest of the night. Maria made sure that he was solely occupied by her ministrations.


	2. Ch 2 When Morning Comes Knocking

**Ch. 2 When Morning Comes Knocking**

Sunlight streamed through the window of the Central Library study onto the bed. The sunlight had steadily heated the room finally waking Mustang up from his peaceful slumber. He hadn't slept that soundly in years, but more importantly he hadn't slept at all since Hughes' death. The much-needed rest felt wonderful. He stretched, opening his eyes to see Ross curled up next to him. His heart jumped at seeing his subordinate in his bed before he remembered the events of the previous night.

He smiled as he watched her sleep. She was even more beautiful when she slept. And he knew she had needed the sleep as well. He was content just to lie here for the moment listening to her shallow breathing. He would have to wake her soon. Sadly they couldn't stay like this all day. His men would be reporting for duty soon whenever soon was. But he would give her a few more minutes of peace.

Ross slowly woke up, unfurled and stretched her sleepy joints.

"Morning," Mustang hummed.

"Mmh. Morning," she mumbled as she rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Rested, and very relaxed." He gently brushed her hair back with his hand and kissed her forehead. "Thanks to you."

She smiled, "Good to hear." She propped herself up on her elbows and looked around the room and then out the window. The sun was high over the city. "What time is it?"

"I have no idea," Roy mumbled.

Ross was about to lean in and steal a kiss from the colonel when someone banged loudly on the door. They both froze and stared at the door, hearts sprinting.

"Colonel! You alive in there!" a brutal female voice bellowed through the door.

Mustang sprang into action, vaulting over Maria to get out of bed. "Hawkeye! Just a second! Don't come in!" He shouted, now more unsure than ever if he had locked the door the previous night. He quickly threw on his shirt and boxers as Maria pulled on her undershirt. He shoved the rest of their clothes into her hands as he whispered, "Get into the closet." She nodded and quietly hurried to her hiding spot.

"Just a second!" Mustang shouted again as he buttoned his shirt and scanned the room for anything he might have missed. Confident that any evidence of his late night encounter with Lieutenant Ross was gone he walked over to the door, that was in fact locked, and opened it.

"Hawkeye-"

His second in command plowed through the door carrying a tray of food, and some files tucked under her arm. "What was that all about? And what are you wearing, sir?" she added, noting his considerable lack of uniform as she placed the tray and the files on the coffee table.

The colonel scratched the back of his head and replied, "I was, uh, I was sleeping."

"Finally." She turned around to look at him, arms crossed. "But sleeping in until 11:30 is generally frowned upon in the military, even for you, sir. Where is your uniform?"

" 11:30?" He was surprised she hadn't barged in earlier, though she had been leaving him to himself more since he had started reviewing Hughes' files. "Uh, it's in the closet," he answered absent mindedly.

"Good. I'll get it for you," Hawkeye said as she started towards the closet.

"No!" He maneuvered between her and the closet. "I can get it myself, Lieutenant.

"Alright, sir." Giving him a confused look. "Well, get dressed," she added. "You need to eat lunch before your meeting with General Martin at noon."

"Right. Thank you, Hawkeye. Why don't you sit down and tell me the news."

"Yes, sir." She said and sat in the chair facing away from him.

It had been a routine of theirs. Every morning, before the others arrived, Hawkeye would go through the paper and daily report and collect any important information for Mustang. She would then read her notes to him when he arrived. Hawkeye sat down and began her report. She started with military news which was mostly promotions and transfers, important information for someone trying to become Fuhrer, but dry none the less.

Mustang watched Hawkeye closely as he approached the closet making sure her focus was completely on her report. He opened the closet door just enough to see Ross and grab his clothes. She handed him a bundle. And he whispered, "Are these the right ones this time?" It would not do for him to change into her clothes with Hawkeye around. Havoc may not have noticed last night, but Hawkeye definitely would. He could tell she was already on edge.

"Yes, sir," Ross whispered back.

Hawkeye stopped reading her report and asked, "Did you say something, Colonel?"

Mustang slammed the closet door closed and whirled around clothes in hand. "No, I didn't say anything. Please continue, Lieutenant."

She continued informing him about a recent string of fires in the south as he began putting his uniform on. There were rumors of an uprising in the west. A local girl had gone missing. And of course the latest victim of the alchemic murderer known as Scar was on the front page. Hawkeye was wrapping up her report when he sat down on the sofa next to her.

"You should eat, sir."

"Yes, thank you." Mustang took a few bites from the tray. Hawkeye stayed where she was, watching him. He tried to ignore it and took a few more bites but he could feel her stare on him. He put his fork down and asked bluntly "Must you watch me eat?"

"Yes, sir."

"Lieutenant, there's no need to-"

"Eat." She interjected forcefully. He frowned and begrudgingly took another bite.

Mustang had learned to simply accept Hawkeye when she got this way. He knew she was simply doing what was best for him. They hand known each other for years, practically grew up together. He had promised her father on his death bed that he would look after her. But it usually worked the other way around and his blonde brutal First Lieutenant was chasing after him making sure he stayed alive. She was one of the few people he had told about his goal to become Fuhrer and she had vowed to see him there herself.

Hawkeye sat back as a question came to her mind. "Oh, by the way, sir, have you by any chance seen Lieutenant Ross recently?"

Mustang inhaled sharply choking on his food. He coughed a few times to dislodge it from his windpipe. Trying to act casually, he took a sip of water and cleared his throat before responding. "No, I haven't. Why do you ask?"

"Sergeant Brosh said she went to check on you and never returned. Also, the barracks have no log of her returning this morning."

"Interesting." He needed to find an excuse before Hawkeye started suspecting him of something. He needed a reason for Ross to still be in the library. "Yes, she did come by. Then she left. She was very tired. Told me she hadn't been sleeping well. Maybe she fell asleep in the stacks. It's a very big library."

Hawkeye considered this for a second. "Maybe. I'll get Havoc and Fuery on it once we're done here."

And that was the fatal flaw in his excuse. Of course Hawkeye would send a search party. "Let her sleep, Lieutenant. I'm sure she needs it. She'll wake up and find her way out."

"But, sir," Hawkeye insisted, "she could be missing or in trouble for all we know."

Mustang groaned internally. Of course this would be the first time she would care about the well-being of another officer. "I understand your concern. But Lieutenant Ross has a good head on her shoulders. I'm sure she's fine. She'll turn up eventually," he said trying to sooth his second's worries.

"Yes, sir. I still think we should search for her anyway. Just to be safe," she asserted once again.

Mustang gave into the fact that Hawkeye was not going to give this up. But he needed her out of the East Wing if he was to get Ross out of his room without anyone noticing. "Alright," he said, "but start in the South wing. I heard she's quite the history buff."

"Good thinking, sir."

"And join Havoc and Fuery on the search," he added.

"If you think that's best," she said almost as a question.

"I do. And you should start immediately." He stood up.

"But, sir-"

Mustang pulled her out of her chair while saying, "Well, as you said, she could be in danger, or dying, or something terrible." He pushed her toward the door. "You need to find her as soon as possible. Get to it," he added as he shoved her out the door.

"Y-yes, sir. Right away, sir," she stuttered as he closed the door on her.

Mustang promptly locked the door and sighed to himself, "I thought she'd never leave." He leaned against the door and ran a hand through his hair. That had been close. After a moment to make sure Hawkeye was out of earshot, he called, "You can come out now, Ross. I've locked the door."

Ross emerged from the closet. "She's very persistent."

"Yes. That was strange." He motioned to the bundle of clothes she was carrying, "Get dressed. When you're done go to the North Wing and read a book or something."

"And pretend I spent the night there?" she smirked as she began dressing.

"Yeah, wasn't sure how much you could hear in there."

Mustang walked over to his desk and started fidgeting with papers while she was changing out of courtesy. She was pulling her socks on when she asked him, "How did you know I liked history, sir?"

He shrugged, "Lucky guess."

Ross tied her shoes, stood up straight and asked, "How do I look, sir."

He turned around from his desk to look at her. She looked beautiful. It was funny how one night could change one's perspective on a person so entirely.

Before he could say anything she tugged at her jacket and added, "I hope there aren't too many wrinkles. Major Armstrong would have my hide."

Right, she was not fishing for any compliments. He just didn't have a mirror. This was mere formality. He stepped closer and inspected her uniform. Then with a smile he said, "You look fine, Lieutenant, for having spent the night in a library."

"That's the most I can hope for," she nodded. "Then I'll get out of your hair." She took a step towards the door.

Mustang stopped her. "Wait. I'll check to see if there's anyone outside."

"Yes, sir."

He stepped outside his room and looked around. The hallway was empty to the East Wing stacks. He called out to Ross, "You're clear."

Ross rushed out of the room and down the hallway. As she passed by Mustang she muttered, "Thank you, sir," then disappeared behind the first row of stacks.


	3. Ch 3 It's Easier

**Ch. 3 It's Easier**

Hawkeye searched down an aisle of stacks on military history in the South Wing looking for Lieutenant Ross. Fuery hadn't been able to join the search. Falman needed him to fix his typewriter. So it was just her and Havoc, which she didn't mind. She hadn't had a lot of time with Havoc since the transfer and the funeral.

The two had split up to search the South Wing more quickly. As Hawkeye walked along stacks of military history she contemplated not for the first time about how odd the colonel had acted earlier. She hadn't thought it would be so difficult to convince him to search for Lieutenant Ross. She thought he had actually taken a shine to her. And even though he pretended not to be, he was generally concerned about the well-being of his people.

Hawkeye didn't much care for the second lieutenant herself. Maybe because the colonel seemed a bit too interested in her, or maybe because Ross acted a bit too innocent and naïve when it came to certain things. That probably had to do with her being stationed in the South during the Ishvalan War. Whatever the reason was, Ross bothered her. To be honest the only reason she was looking for her was because Major Armstrong had insisted, and she couldn't handle another one of his worried hugs. Her shoulder was still sore from the last one.

As she rounded the next aisle, Havoc called, "Got nothing in Ancient Civilizations except dust. You?"

She shook her head, "Nothing. She must not be in the South Wing. Let's try the West."

"I don't know, Hawk. Maria's never been much of a science and math gal. Let's try the North Wing first."

Hawkeye shrugged, "You know better than me."

And he did. Havoc had served with Ross in the South after he was injured in the war. He knew the young lieutenant much better than she did. It seemed all of her boys knew her. Fuery and Falman had gone to the Academy with her. Hawkeye was fairly certain the three of them were very close. Fuery had also been stationed with her in the South. And Havoc as always was instantly friends with everybody. Breda knew Ross less so. They had never been stationed together but whenever Mustang and Armstrong where in the same place the boys all hung out with her and Breda along with them. Ross was apparently a good drinking buddy and Breda became fast friends with anyone who could hold their alcohol. And now the colonel…

It unnerved Hawkeye how much everyone liked Ross. She was an average soldier with average looks, and average smarts. Why was everyone so close with her? What made her so special? Hawkeye wasn't close with anyone. Then again that's how she had made it. It was easier, just her and Black Hayata. She liked it that way. She was close with the colonel, but that was different. The war had mutated their friendship into something undefinable. It wasn't quite friendship, but it wasn't quite anything else. And they were the only ones who understood it. Everyone else was just in the dark.

She looked up at Havoc, a little ways ahead of her, as they made their way to the North Wing. She was almost close with Havoc. He had insisted they be immediate friends upon meeting her in the Academy. And she still didn't understand his fascination with her. But something had changed between them when the war was over and she didn't know why.

Havoc turned around and smiled, "Hurry up. It's not like you to lag behind. Do you even want to find Ross?" It always amazed her how he could practically read her mind sometimes. He waited for her to catch up and wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulders, grinning. "You looking forward to another hug from the Major? You sweet on him?"

"No, I'm not." She barked as she bumped his hip playfully.

"Hey!" he chuckled. "Right, there's only one man for Riza Hawkeye, our ever valiant colonel."

And then there were times he really couldn't read her mind at all. She found it easier not to respond when he said things like that. There were only so many times you could insist you didn't love somebody. She could smell the smoke clinging to his uniform and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. It didn't help. It just made him smell like a fancy ashtray, but at least he was trying. He should be trying to quit altogether she thought but then let it go. He was never going to and she knew it. She let him keep his arm around her as they walked and when he finally pulled away she sighed quietly to herself. It was easier.

* * *

Ross wasn't sure how to address Mustang in private after that night. She wasn't even sure what it meant. And he hadn't mentioned anything to her to clarify the situation. So she stuck to formalities to be safe. 'Yes sirs' and 'No sirs' and 'What do you need sirs.' She didn't want to overstep. And she was trying very hard to not look like a love-struck puppy every time she saw him, especially in public. Not that she was. She was well aware that he probably didn't have feelings for her. But they knew each other intimately now and that changed things. For the most part she was confident she kept her cool the last three days, but it was moments like this that she questioned how well she was keeping up her façade.

Mustang had called her and Brosh in for a meeting to explain that this was their last night working with him. Tomorrow they would go back to being under Major Armstrong's command. He reminded them that they were not to discuss anything they learned while under his command except to Major Armstrong if they felt it necessary.

Her palms were sweaty and her heart fluttered as her gaze drifted to the bed and she remembered their night together. She quickly shifted her gaze to something else and tried to slow her breathing. Her cheeks felt warm and she hoped that neither of the men in the room noticed if she was blushing. But more than that she hoped Brosh hadn't noticed any change in her behavior these last few days.

They had been partners for a few years now and he could generally tell when something was bothering her. He hadn't said anything yet, but it was only a matter of time. She and Brosh were close. Not many people were nice to him or could look past his bumbling demeanor. But she knew him well. He was a good loyal friend - it not a bit over-anxious –and he always had her back. He had his skills too. Not many but some. He was a fairly good shot. He was very quick with riddles. And he had abnormally good hearing.

Mustang sighed, "Well, that's all I wanted to say. It's been good working with the two of you. You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir," Brosh chimed.

Ross was pulled out of her thoughts and stuttered, "Y-yes, sir."

Mustang cocked his eyebrow, "Lieutenant, I would like to speak with you further, if you don't mind."

"Yes, sir." She swallowed hard and her stomach started turning. What could he possibly want to talk to her about? The silence as Brosh left the room was smothering.

Mustang started speaking once the door was closed. "Ross, I-"

"Wait, sir," Ross interrupted and turned to the door to shout, "Brosh, stop eavesdropping and get back to your post!"

A second later a muffled "Yes, ma'am," came through the door.

"How did you-?"

"I just did." She suddenly felt very guilty about all those conversations they had listened in on through doors in the past. It was different on the other side. "You wanted to speak with me, sir?" Her voice sounded more anxious than she had meant it to be.

"You've been acting nervous around me ever since the other night." His voice sounded more concerned than anything else, but she was still unsure of his reason for keeping her.

"Sir, I-" she tried to explain but he interrupted her.

"I won't report you, if that's what you're worried about."

"No! I would never think that." She was somewhat shocked by his statement. "I could never think so poorly of you, sir. You're an honorable man and I trust you to keep this under wraps."

"Then what's bothering you?"

"I'm just," she considered how to word her fears, "I'm afraid someone else is going to figure it out."

Mustang chuckled softly, "You have no need to worry. It was one night. How could someone figure it out?"

He was right. She didn't know why it hurt to hear him say that. He was trying to console her. She had known it was only a one night stand when she agreed to it. But finally hearing it out loud made it all suddenly very real and a part of her cracked. "Yes, sir," she replied softly.

Mustang shifted at her change of tone. She could feel his eyes looking her over. "Ross?" he asked, the concern in his voice ripping at her.

It took all her effort to look at him without falling apart. She set her jaw and clenched her fists. She focused on keeping her eyes from watering and her voice from wavering as she said distantly, "Colonel, I will try in the future to act less nervous around you. If that is all, sir, I wish to be excused."

Mustang took a few seconds to respond, but it felt like hours to Ross. She couldn't make herself look at him and her mind was in knots trying to figure out what he was thinking. He finally said perplexed, "If you wish."

She couldn't get out of the room fast enough. A brisk walk took her from Mustang's door to her post at the end of the hall. Her fists were still clenched when she passed Brosh.

"What did he want?" he asked innocently.

"None of your damn business!" she snapped, immediately regretting it as she darted down an aisle of books. Brosh had nothing to do with this but she couldn't turn back now for fear of falling apart in front of her friend and subordinate. She broke into a run when she was sure he could no longer see her and kept running until she found herself at the far corner of the North Wing.

Tall windows looked out over a well-managed courtyard with a babbling fountain. Ross leaned her head against the window pane. The cool glass was a comfort as tears flooded her eyes. She struck her open palm against the hard rock wall as tears fell down her cheeks. "Damn it!" she whispered in anger. She clenched her jaw along with her fist, furious that she let her emotions get this far. She knew this was what would happen. She knew nothing would develop past a single night. She knew she had been a means to an end and she had agreed to it willingly. But then why did she feel so rotten. Why did her stomach twist out of itself and her heart ache like a muscle pulled past its limit? She could not explain why she felt so much for a man she hardly knew.

She let go of the hold on her emotions. Tears rolled down her face at an ever increasing rate. Her breath came in short gasps as her sadness battered through her in waves. There was no point in trying to hold back now that she was alone. It would only make it worse.

* * *

Mustang walked hurriedly through the stacks. He needed to find Ross. He had thought something was off in his room. He had seen something change in her, and the way she left. Her voice had turned cold. She had spoken to him as an Academy cadet apologizing to an officer for misbehaving. She had even looked the part; straight shouldered, locked chin, level blank stare. Something was wrong.

His fears were confirmed when he found Brosh alone at their post. He had given Brosh some half-assed excuse why he needed to find her -Ross was gathering books for him and he thought of some more he needed. It was thin but it was enough to get an answer. The sergeant had seen her take off toward the North Wing. Mustang had parted before Brosh could ask him about Ross's strange behavior.

He ignored Brosh partly because it was none of the sergeant's concern, but also because he didn't have answers himself. He had said something to upset Ross and he didn't know what. Clearly being professional about all this wasn't going to work. There was too much subtext to be misinterpreted. He needed to find Ross and clear the air.

* * *

Ross leaned on the window sill, the courtyard below coming into focus. Her tears had for the most part subsided and her breathing returned to normal. Or at least as normal as it could be with her runny nose. She never understood why crying had to be accompanied by a runny nose. It made the whole thing more unpleasant. She was not a pretty crier.

Brosh would probably notice her recent distress but she would write off the puffy eyes and runny nose to seasonal allergies or the dust, and he wouldn't push her for more. He was generally good about picking up when she didn't want to talk about something.

She breathed deeply. She was by the ancient literature. She could tell by the smell of the old books and aged wood behind her. The air was so thick with the musty smell she could almost taste the yellowed pages covered in dust. Her mind calmed as she breathed it in and watched two squirrels in the courtyard chase each other between the trees. A few more minutes and she would be able to head back to her post.

"It was hard finding you."

The voice yanked her out of her serene state. The abruptness was startling. She whipped around on her heels, wiping away her tears as she straightened her back and squared her stance. "Sir!"

Mustang's cocky smile instantly turned to concern when she turned around. He practically gasped moving away from the bookshelf he had been leaning on. "Maria," he muttered. He rushed toward her, instinctively reaching toward her face to wipe away the tears she had missed.

But she cut him off, swatting his shaky hand away and stepping back. "Colonel, it is unprofessional to call one's subordinate by their first name," she said icily.

"Maria, I didn't know-," he persisted.

"Of course you did. You said it yourself that night," she barked. She was not playing this game any longer. He couldn't toy with her like this and think she would stand by. He knew exactly how she felt. He was just choosing to ignore it.

He looked down and grew quiet backing away from her. Ross could see his brain hammering it out. "You're right," he mumbled. He sounded almost defeated and she suddenly felt bad about snapping at him. "I didn't mean what I said today," he continued looking up at her. She could see the concern on his face.

"Yes, you did," she smiled sadly. Knowing he was at least concerned about her feelings made it easier for her to come to terms with the reality of their situation. "Logically, it makes sense for what happened the other night to be the only incident. If it ever occurred again, our careers would be even more at risk."

"I wouldn't call the other night an incident. You know it was more than that," he argued.

"I was foolish to think it was. And I'm foolish now to let my emotions get the better of me. I knew this would be the most likely result. I mean the entire military knows you're a philanderer." She almost chuckled. It was true. They could either end it now or have a few more surreptitious sleep-overs, but he would eventually move on. He wasn't known for dating any one girl for long. And she didn't want to try to change him. She honestly didn't think she could keep up a secret office romance even if it were possible.

He gave her a hurt look. "No, Maria, the other night-" He stopped to organize his thoughts. "I wasn't just using you to clear my head. I have a reputation for being a womanizer. But you-you deserve better than that."

"Even so, we can't be anything more than casual anyway, sir. So I don't see any point in pursuing this." She had made up her mind. This was for the best. Rather a tiny fracture of the heart now than a gaping hole later.

"That's not-" Mustang tried to argue.

"We can't be seen together," she continued, "which means we can't date. Is there really another option?" She surprised herself at how easily she was dismissing him. Back in his office she would have wholly accepted his advances. But she saw the situation more clearly now. There really was no hope for them.

Mustang had become increasingly more agitated as she rebuffed him. He had started pacing. A distinct frown planted itself on his face. He finally whirled around to face the stacks and burst out, "I want there to be!" as he slammed his fist against the side of the shelves. The books jostled slightly at the force of it.

Ross' breath caught. She hadn't quite realized how he felt. They were in the same position. Both logically knowing there was no other alternative, but not wanting to accept it. Except now she had. It was easier, and he would eventually figure that out too.

He finally turned to her and growled, "Logically, what you're saying makes sense. But for some reason I just can't accept that as our only option."

It hurt to watch him rack his brain for a solution because she knew there was none. "Roy. It's just-"she started. She didn't know what to say. She wanted to pull him into her arms and hold him until it was all better. But that was exactly the problem. She couldn't do that. She sighed. "It wasn't meant to be. Okay? It'll be easier on both of us to just go our separate ways. Besides you'll find another girl in no time." She tried to smile.

He shook his head. "You're not just some other girl."

She wanted to believe it, but believing it would make it harder. "Thank you, sir, but I sincerely doubt that."

The colonel was quiet for a moment before moving away from the bookshelf not looking at her. He squared his shoulders and adjusted his uniform jacket before saying "I had to ask Sergeant Brosh where you went. I told him you were getting books for my research."

"Oh," was all she could say to the abrupt change in subject. She almost started to doubt his sincerity earlier.

"When you come back, bring a few books with you. It doesn't matter what they are." He started to walk away not even giving her a sideways glance.

"Okay." She didn't know how to respond to his sudden change in mood. "Sir?" He stopped where he was but didn't turn around. "Are you alright?" she asked.

He turned his head ever so slightly toward her. "I'm always alright, Ross. But very rarely am I perfectly at ease. You gave me that."

Her heart dropped. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't be."

She stood there until he turned out of the row of stacks. It was truly over. She wondered if she were completely daft to turn down a few more nights with that man who so clearly cared for her. It wouldn't have hurt, a few more nights.

No. It would have. This was easier.

* * *

_Author: There's more I promise! This is not the end. I apologize for not quickly posting these but I will eventually write more chapters. Promise! ^_^ _

_Thanks to all who have read this far. Please comment. I love getting feedback._


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